The Grey Spectrum
by Levity Lirum
Summary: AU For whatever reason, a Shade of the Force attaches itself to Anakin and begins to infulence the young boy long before Qui-Gon even sets foot on Tattooine. Is it for Good or Ill? And why would the Force allow it?
1. Book 1 Chapter 1: Air

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Lost Odyssey._**

I've recently started reading Star Wars stories and this plot bunny latched itself onto my ankle. Not even a crowbar can pry it loose.

The stories from '_A Thousand Years Of Dream' _are from Lost Odyssey and are just props, pretty much. If you want to read them go to the Lost Odyssey Wikia and look up the afore mentioned title.

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><p>I could hear music...<p>

...No, not music, but harmonious sounds, like the slow random notes of a string instrument of some kind...

Now that I was aware of the notes, it was almost as if the notes became aware of me, becoming slightly louder and warbling like an electric guitar. Other notes began to come in and it was like listening to a symphony of stringed instruments all playing different tunes and melodies that were nothing alike, yet seemed to melt together. Then came drums and keyboards, growing progressively more complex as if whatever the almost-music was, was showing me more and more of itself...

There was an awareness of others listening, far away, but it wasn't important enough to draw my attention from the almost-music.

Occasionally there was a slight tugging that I brushed away in annoyance.

It took me a long time to realise that while I was listening to the almost-music, I could see (but not at the same time), a flowing, translucent river of coloured light particles twisting an giant strands into a webs that expanded beyond comprehension, but that was all secondary to the not-music...

It took even longer for me to realise that I was emitting almost-music of my own; a soft thrumming like an electric guitar being tuned.

As I became more aware of myself, I felt like I was becoming more 'real', the crooning of nearby chords seeming to encourage me deeper into my own sounds...

xixixixixix

There is a woman seated at a small desk with what appears to be data-pads, a small blonde boy of about three dozing in her lap, his drowsy sky-hued eyes watching me over his mother's shoulder.

The woman, whose dark hair was pulled up in a sloppy bun, sounded like a mournful, yet hopeful violin.

The child sounded like bass and acoustic and electric guitars, all playing the same notes in sync, like a wave; first bass C-flat, then acoustic C-flat, then electric C-flat, before moving onto the next note. The notes were slow from either drowsiness or his young age.

The woman does not see me, even though I am standing well with-in her personal bubble and in her peripherals.

I tilt my head to the side as I return the child's gaze.

"...Huh..."

I stay and look around the room for a while before the almost-music calls me back.

xixixixixixix

I begin to swing between the almost-music and the boy after that, watching as he grows and is sold by the Hutt who owned him and the dark-haired woman, and began to work in the junk shop of a Toydarian named Watto.

The boy's name is Anakin Skywalker and the dark-haired woman is his mother, Shmi Skywalker.

After a time, I start to sit beside the boy as he lay or continued his work after being beaten, humming along with the almost-music in the background as I watching his tiny hands work.

xixixixixix

One night I sit down beside Anakin's bed, my back against the side of his bed in the dark.

For the first time, I speak into the darkness, well aware that he is watching me from beneath his covers.

"Would you like to hear a story?" I ask softly.

I feel more than hear his soft agreement.

I lean my head back and stare up at the ceiling as I begin to speak. "This is a story from a series called '_A Thousand Years of Dreaming_'. It is about an immortal and physically invulnerable man named Kaim as he went through his thousand years of life. This first one of the chronicles is called '_Hanna's Departure_'..."

I can almost hear him listening with intent interest in the gloom.

I begin."The family members have tears in their eyes when they welcome Kaim back to the inn from his long journey. '_Thank you so much for coming_.' He understands the situation immediately. The time for departure is drawing near." I sigh softly and continue, my tone soft and almost regretful in the night. "Too soon, too soon. But still, he knows, this day would have come sometime, and not in the distant future.'_I might never see you again_,' she said to him with a sad smile when he left on this journey, her smiling face almost transparent in its whiteness, so fragile—and therefore indescribably beautiful—as she lay in bed..."

Anakin stays awake to hear the whole story.

We remain in silent companionship until I once again fade into the almost-music.

xixixixixix

When I fade in again, Anakin is fixing a droid of some kind. I wander over and sit on a piece of scrap.

"Would you like to hear a story?" I ask him.

Anakin looks at me with his blue-blue eyes and nods, smiling shyly.

I hum and sit back. "This is the next story from '_A Thousand Years of Dreaming'._ It is called '_A Hero's Return."_

I lean back to watch the sky with its twin scorching suns. "Alone in a crowd of rugged men, nursing his drink in the far corner of the old post town's only tavern: Kaim." I wriggle a bit to get comfortable. "A single man strides in through the tavern door. Massively built, he wears the garb of a warrior. His soiled uniform bespeaks a long journey. Fatigue marks his face, but his eyes wear a penetrating gleam—the look of a fighting man on active duty..."

When the story ends, I am still staring up at the blue-blue of the skies, identical to the blue-blue of the boy's eyes. "It's sad, isn't it?" I murmur to the boy.

I sense the boy nodding in agreement, turning the story over in his head. I turn to look at Anakin, his little blond head staring sightlessly into the droid, his hands still working the wire into its proper shape.

"If I tell you all these stories, will you remember them?" Anakin looks at me. "It is important that some lessons be remembered. These stories have been forgotten by those still alive; only one other alive even knows these stories, and he has relegated them to the very depths of his ancient mind. Not even manuscripts remain."

Anakin nods. "When I have time, can you tell them to me so I can write them down?"

I nod and smile. "We'll wait a few years, but in the mean time, I'll continue telling you the stories, okay?"

Anakin beams, his music rippling like a stream of light through water.

xixixixixix

I continue on with the stories when I see Anakin, feeling vaguely like a mouthpiece for the almost-music to speak through, but I don't mind.

Sometimes, when I tell the stories, Anakin cries. The Chronicles of '_A Thousand Years of Dreaming' _are not happy tales. They were created to convey the sadder aspects of human nature and to help understand them better.

Anakin likes '_Little Liar' _and '_The Tragedy of the Butcher General' _best. The '_Little Liar'_ I can understand, but not such a cruel story as '_The Tragedy of the Butcher General'_...

I ask him about it once.

He is working on a hyperdrive while he answers. "Because I never want to be like that. If I keep the story in my memory, then I can remember and avoid being like the Butcher General."

I regard Anakin seriously as he works, the deep lowing of a bamboo shakuhachi flute rippling through the almost-music, affecting the flow of a stream of music.

The Butcher General in the story was a general who killed not only the soldiers and men of the places he conquered, but also the women, the children and the invalids out of fear, cowardice, that someday they would take revenge. That fear led to hate and led to the lonely death of the Butcher General, no one mourning his death, even his own men.

I continue to watch Anakin work, occasionally pointing something out that he missed, but would probably pick up on later.

"What is your name, anyway?"

The question was so abrupt, I half-fell off my perch on a beam.

"What?"

Anakin looks at me, an amused little smile tugging at his lips. "Your name. What is it? You've been around since I was little and I still don't know what your name is." He shrugs. "I've just been calling you 'Starman' in my head, but it would be nice to know your real name."

When put like that, it was pretty odd that I hadn't mentioned it.

"It's been a long time since I've used it, so I guess I just forgot about it." I smile at Anakin; a wide, playful grin that reveals my sharp white teeth.

"My name is Amarantos di Trikzer, former Master of the Order of the Spectrum." My smile becomes a cheery grin. "But you may call me Rant."

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><p>Yeah...Let me know what you think.<p> 


	2. Book 1 Chapter 2: Water

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Lost Odyssey._**

The stories from '_A Thousand Years Of Dreaming' _are from Lost Odyssey and are just props, pretty much. If you want to read them go to the Lost Odyssey Wikia and look up the afore mentioned title.

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><p>When I 'wake up' next, I know that I am far away from Anakin, on another planet.<p>

The thunder of waterfalls pounds around me like a roar of white noise.

I can smell dirt and plant-life rather than the dry heated sand of Tatooine.

I tilt my head and open my eyes to see a young man trying to meditate, a troubled frown on his face.

Seeing no one else around, I trot the dozen or so feet between us and settle down in a similar mediation stance in front of him, watching the play of discomfort and frustration on his boyish face.

The young man is probably early to mid twenties with short, dark ginger hair and a Padawan Learner braid. He is shorter and slighter than my current manifestation.

I pause and wonder over that for a moment, finding something wrong with that observation.

I glance around and find a polished metal fountain pillar not far away.

The person in the distorted reflection is in his late twenties to early thirties, with long waved black hair falling loose, darkly tanned skin and a small well-kept scruff beard. The eyes appeared to be very large and dark, with little white showing. He is dressed in an odd, sleeveless cloud-grey robe tied off at the waist by a white tie that trails to about the knees.

I wonder if this is the face that Anakin sees, then dismiss the tangential thought as the young man sighs, shoulders drooping.

"Something wrong?" I ask.

His eyes snap open and he flinches back in shock.

I admit to being surprised by his eyes; the odd blue-grey-purple eyes of those the people of Senjula called _Calalescan, _literally 'Force-Born' as only Force-sensitives had these eyes and senses. Had Senjula not been destroyed by the Sith during the last Jedi-Sith war, this boy would have been automatically given a high life akin to a Prince once he began his purpose.

The _Calalescans_ were born Dark Force detectors and hunters. Incapable of falling to the Dark Side, they are nonetheless overcome with righteous anger when their senses detect Dark-influenced midichlorians, driving them with a single-minded intent to remove the discordant entity through death.

I blink to cover my surprise.

The _Calalescan _sighs unhappily. "I have difficulty connecting to the Living Force. I can connect to the Unifying Force without issue, but the Living Force escapes me, Master."

I blink, mind scrambling then grabbing the reason he is calling me 'Master'. He thinks I am a Jedi Master.

...Haha, cute.

I smile at him. "What do you know about the differences between the Living Force over the Unifying Force?"

The young man sits straighter and speaks as if reciting from a text book."The concept of the Unifying Force is of the belief that the Force is a single entity and has neither a Light nor a Dark side. The Unifying Force is viewed as an entity that has neither sides nor chooses them, treating all beings equally. Followers of the Unifying Force always keep their eyes open for future possibilities." He speaks matter of factly, like it is a Universal Truth.

"The Living Force is thought to be present in most living beings, surrounding and penetrating them, thus making all living things connected by it. The Jedi believe the Living Force relies on their instincts and are attuned to other living beings around them. They are mindful of the future and the possible consequences of their actions, but remain focused on the present. The Living Force is viewed as having both the Light and the Dark side."

I wiggle a finger in my ear with a grimace. "I didn't ask you what the textbook definition was, I asked you what you know about the differences between the two concepts."

The Padawan looks slightly baffled and contrite.

My eyes roll of their own accord at the puppy eyes the young man is subconsciously giving me. I reach out to the side and snag a rock at random, holding it up so he can see.

"This is a rock." I tell him seriously before giving it to him. "Using all your senses, including the Force, to tell me about this rock. Don't try to direct the Force to either the Unifying or Living Force. Let the Force tell you what it wants about the rock."

The young _Calalescan _looks down at the rock and turns it in his hands for nearly a minute, frowning.

"It is a river rock from one of the moons of Naboo and was moved here some five hundred and twenty-six years ago. It is made of a mix of granite and quartz. About five hundred grams, egg-shaped with a small crease on one side. There are three fault lines. Someone will die or be badly injured upon it in the next twenty years."

The young man looks to me for approval. I nod and take back the rock. I look over the rock a moment as I consider what to tell the man.

"You actually have a very firm grasp on the intricacies of the Living Force, but you seem to have difficulty sorting it from the aspects of the Unifying Force that throw mostly useless or near-useless information at you. Just saying it is a river rock from a moon of Naboo is Living Force, as is what it is made of, the faults and shape, but the history and possible future of the rock are Unifying Force. You just need to learn to sort Living from Unifying aspects as needed." There is something both relieved and worried in his pretty eyes. "Do you know what I see when I glance at this rock?" I ask.

He shakes his head, eyes locked on the rock being turned around in my hands like it has all the answers in the universe.

...And it might. Rocks are tricky like that.

"I see a rock." I tell him bluntly, tossing the rock over my shoulder without a second glance. He looks a bit startled. "It is a rock like any other in this chamber and has no current meaning to me as anything but a prop for this little lesson. Though," I admit, "There is a small percentage that it will be thrown at me sometime in the next few minutes by an angry Jedi Master trying to protect you." I grin as it suddenly occurs to him that, while I am obviously a trained Force-sensitive and wearing robes, they are not the robes of a Jedi of any rank, nor do I carry a lightsabre. "This," I tell him as if nothing has changed, "is the Living Force. The Living Force is the moment and the moments surrounding the moments that encompase the present. The Unifying Force is future and past that has come and possibly will come, but only one is set it stone." I lean forward as if to tell a secret, my grin widening. "But, you know, stone can be broken and reworked."

I am moving before becoming consciously aware of what is happening, flipping up and twisting in the air to land on the rippling surface of the pool behind where I had been sitting. I finally registers that someone had shouted, sending a spray of rocks at where I had been, including the lesson-rock.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Settled on the watery platform, I turn to regard four Jedi Masters, two humans and two of the small green inhabitants of Dugobah. The bearded Master, the Force murmurs to me, is Master Qui-Gon Jinn, Master to Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, whom I had just been speaking to. The darker-skinned human master is Master Mace Windu, of the Supreme Council. The two smaller masters are already known to me. Jedi Masters of the Supreme Council, Master Yoda and Master Yaddle, who are watching me with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

I will admit to being a little hurt by their responses.

I sigh and try to smile. "I seems, my Padawan, that every time I see you these days, you're always angry at me."

My former Padawan's eyes soften a little. "Help, it would, if your presence brought trouble, it did not."

I chuff softly, my playful good humour returning as I begin to fade back into the almost-music of the Force.

"Then I _am_ sorry." I tell my once-Padawan, Yoda, sincerely. "The closer you get to the Light, the greater your Shadow becomes. The Son of Suns has been born and is nearing adolescence."

I struggle to hold one long enough to tell Yoda along the frayed bond between us, _'Obi-Wan is a Calalescan.'_

So I drift into the almost-music again, the Force gently berating me for shifting the balance down a knew path. But it wasn't that bad since the Force is already poking its way curiously down this knew path, so it wasn't too upset with me.

When I drift out of the almost-music again, I grin at Anakin.

"Do you wanna hear a story, Ani?"

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><p>So what do you think of Rant so far? And the Padawan Yoda was just something I came up with on the spot. An emotional connection that could possibly drive a Force Spirit to interfere with the livving.<p> 


End file.
